10. Percy
CHAPTER 10
Percy
Even the longest, most interesting day seems to pass far too quickly when you’re awaiting dinner with my family. The thought swirled around my head as Finn and I trailed the beach back to the house. When we arrived, the terrace doors were all open, and the two of us climbed up the slope separating the backyard from the beach.
“Looks like they’re all asleep,” I said. Long afternoon naps were a common thing around here at the height of summer.
“Not for much longer,” said Finn just as the clanging of pots and pans reached my ears from the kitchen.
Dimitrios hurried out and greeted us in passing while carrying two huge platters to the dining table on the terrace. The scent of moussaka filled my nostrils and my mouth watered. “We’re in for a treat,” I told Finn.
My hired boyfriend rubbed his hands together and gazed after Dimitrios like he was going to eat the moussaka and the man together. “And suddenly, I’m starving.”
We hurried upstairs before the others were up. Finn showered first, and I lingered in the room, enjoying some solitude before all hell broke loose. My thoughts wandered to the safebox, curiosity zinging through me uninvited. I could never resist a mystery, a puzzle I should leave far out of my mind, but this one was not for me to solve. It’s just his passport , I told myself. All sorts of things happen to people these days. For all he knew, I could be out to trap him here forever. But why hasn’t that bothered him sooner? Why today?
Finn stepped out of the shower in a fashion I was becoming used to. He was half-naked, dripping, and handsome enough to make me forget what I’d been thinking about. I pulled my gaze away from his tanned skin and cleared my throat. Clumsily, I took a step back, turned on my heels, and inspected the paint on the walls. “Did you have a good…erm, shower?” Fuck my life , I thought to myself.
Finn chuckled. He didn’t bother to answer the question. Instead, he hummed something as he rummaged through his backpack and carried away his clean clothes for the evening. When he was done, we swapped places, and I hoped that a scalding shower might wash away the awkwardness of the previous moment.
Normally, I could hold the reins pretty well, dammit. I had held it together at the beach all day, but we had been surrounded by people and we spoke of Richie. Those things were enough of a turn-off to help me remain cool. Now? We were all alone and Finn had been naked underneath the towel.
My mind was a treacherous bastard. As I stripped and entered the spacious shower, it supplied me with every naughty image of Finn without the towel that it could have concocted. I could picture it so clearly, the curve of his ass and the shape of his cock.
My hands rubbed my chest and stomach, soap foaming, water pattering against my hand and flowing down the length of my back. I pressed my left hand against the tiles and lowered my right along my abs, then wrapping it around my swelling length and holding my breath as shudders rocked my chest. “Oh, fuck,” I whispered, my fist tightening around my cock, stroking it slowly, carefully, and as quietly as I could.
I shouldn’t be doing this , I thought. He’s just ten feet away. He’s ten feet away, and I’m using him, rendering all the talk of boundaries meaningless. But these thoughts evaporated in the cloud of steam that surrounded me.
This whole day had been a mess of feelings, sensations I couldn’t control, urges I couldn’t tame, and needs I could never fulfill to satisfaction. Since waking up next to him, seeing him sprawled out on the bed and wearing only his underwear and the tangled duvet, until now, while he sat in the other room, waiting for me.
Is he lying down? I imagined that he was. I imagined that the day we had spent together was as filled with the sparks of desire for him as it had been for me. I imagined he couldn’t control himself, either, so he lay on the bed, his underwear lost somewhere on the floor, his smooth, tanned legs spreading, hands dragging up his thighs, revealing his hard cock and heavy balls. I saw myself leaning in, my head between his thighs, my face buried deep until my lips could feel his taint.
My cock throbbed, and I choked, but not quickly enough to stop the moan that tore loose from my throat. As lust soared through me, I clenched my muscles hard and stroked myself faster, my throbbing cock sending ribbons of hot, white cum splattering the tiles and my lungs burning with the air I held.
When I released my dick, it throbbed, hanging heavy before me, leaping with every twitch of a muscle and every touch my fingers laid on my body. Water poured down my back and my front as I stepped back, sweat and shame and guilt washing away from my skin.
I had moaned far louder than I had meant to and the memory of it only grew louder as seconds ticked away. I postponed returning to the room for as long as I could, convinced that he must have heard me. How would I ever look him in the eyes after this? Even if he hadn’t heard it, his naked body was the image etched so deep into my mind that I couldn’t carve it out no matter what. So I decided to be a big boy and face him sooner rather than later. Drying myself with a big towel, I felt tingles running down into my toes at every touch of the soft fabric against my cock.
Shivers ran down my neck even after I put my clothes on. Holding my breath, I stepped out with the coolest, most composed face I could pull off. And the room was empty.
My breath left me in a big, long exhale, relief splashing over me like the waves of the ocean.
When I opened the door of my room, I heard the chatter downstairs. They were all up. Laughter rippled, and then Finn’s voice came over the uproar as he finished telling some wild anecdote. “And the pigeon looked me dead in the eye, and I kid you not, it hopped over to the window, dropped its load, so to speak, on my floor, and just left.”
The setup must have been epic because my family was ripping with laughter. Dimitrios bellowed like Santa and even Nektaria cackled.
Slowly, I climbed downstairs, listening to my father’s follow-up questions regarding the pigeon debacle, to which Finn replied lightly as if talking about today’s weather. At the foot of the stairs, Emily slipped into the back kitchen, and I followed her instead of joining the dinner table. “Why are you sneaking around?” I asked.
My sister snorted. “I need to water my wine without giving Dimitrios a stroke.”
“He’s been serving the good stuff all this time,” I said.
Emily smiled. “He must be having a very good time.”
“They all seem to be having a good time,” I mused, nearing the kitchen island and dragging my fingers over the polished marble countertop.
Emily pulled a pitcher of cold water from the fridge and splashed some into her wine glass. “And you? You’ve been on edge since you got here.”
I continued moving through the kitchen until I stood by the row of windows looking out at the sea. Far to the left side of the window, I could see the dining table on the terrace, and the people gathered around it. Once, I had imagined all of this completely differently. I had imagined myself with Richie, hosting our anniversary party and bringing my family as guests. Not in a million years had I imagined hiring a boyfriend to bring to my parents’ thirty-fifth.
“He’s a lucky catch, big bro,” Emily said softly, joining me by the window.
Finn was flailing his arms high above his head, hands shaking in an imitation of something I’d never learned about. I had been trying to control him, to make him as unnoticeable as possible, just to avoid the risk of my embarrassing truth coming out, yet he was mesmerizing. He captivated his audience, even if it consisted of only five people, and he made them laugh like nobody had done in recent memory.
Mother waved her glass and wine splashed over the deck, laughter rapturing at the dinner table, and Father nearly spat out his Martini. Aunt Judith had a napkin over her mouth, shaking with laughter.
I should have encouraged him to be himself right away. I shouldn’t have tried to make him less than what he was.
“It’s like every time he smiles, I expect he’ll shove his hands into his pocket and throw a fistful of glitter at me.” The words tumbled over my lips before I could hold them back.
“Why would you keep something like that a secret?” Emily asked, suspicious and disbelief thick in her voice. She blinked at me when I met her look, her eyebrows rising.
I didn’t have a ready answer to that. I improvised. “What happened the last time I brought a guy here with me?” I winced.
“You can’t be serious,” Emily said. “They’re nothing alike.”
I shrugged. For one thing, Richie had actually been my boyfriend, while Finn was just my assistant’s friend looking for some fun away from the States.
“Finn is nice,” Emily said. “He’s fun and lovely and bubbly as hell.”
“He sure is all that,” I agreed, looking at him. Currently, he was deeply engrossed in a story my parents were telling. There was hardly ever a story they told individually. Most of the time, it was like a very well-rehearsed script, with each of them saying every other or third line, never missing a beat. Finn’s gaze darted between them, telling me which one was speaking just then.
“And he’s nothing like the other guys you dated,” Emily said. Her tone hinted at something that went far above my head. Emily was happy to elaborate anyway. “He’s the first good guy you had, Percy. Or the first we know about. It’s almost like…he’s not your type.” She chuckled to take away the edge.
I narrowed my eyes at my sister. “Types change.”
Emily wrapped her hand around my upper arm. “It’s a change for the better, big bro. Don’t miss this opportunity.”
I smoothed the momentary frown that creased my forehead. “We’re doing well.” Yet not even I believed those words.
Emily nodded firmly, pausing a second away from touching the side of her nose conspiratorially. “Of course you are. And he likes you, Percy. Don’t blow it.”
He doesn’t like me , I said internally. He acts that way because he needs to . “Should we join them before Nektaria puts together a search party?”
“The moussaka is getting cold,” Emily said.
We walked out to joyful laughter. My mother was telling Finn about the trip to Peru she and Dad had made last year. The punchline of the story was that they almost missed the tour to Machu Picchu on their last day because they were reinventing the passion in their marriage. When Finn made the grave mistake of asking how exactly they did that, Dad had the honor of introducing Finn to the art of Shibari.
“…and I believe that’s enough of that,” I said politely.
Mom scoffed. “Always so conservative, our Percy.”
“He’s just shy, darling,” Dad disagreed in a rare example of not adding fuel to Mom’s fire. In return, Mom pulled away the grape that had been hovering before Dad’s lips and ate it herself.
“How are you coping on this fine evening?” I asked Finn.
“Perfectly, my love,” Finn replied, making my heart jitter. “We’re crying tears of laughter.” He looked at me, doe-eyed and loving and with a zing of mischief. “Did you have a nice…shower?” The corners of his lips curled for a heartbeat. Thankfully, I didn’t have to endure the embarrassment for too long because I was about to explode in a ball of fire. Finn turned his attention back to my dad. “And Lawrence, I would love to know how you and Alicia got into Shibari. That’s so fascinating.”
“I’d like to die now, please,” I whimpered, but the Reaper was nowhere near me. Instead, Emily kept throwing me significant glances, Finn dialed up his curiosity in Shibari, my parents admitted to having photographs in their private collection—Nektaria confirmed this as Dad’s office required dusting three weeks ago—and Aunt Judith expressed disappointment that her Benny wasn’t arriving tomorrow.
In all this, I craved the anonymity of the city beach that Finn and I had enjoyed earlier, and I wondered if there was any chance we could do that again tomorrow, especially with the fact that he had very likely overheard my shower activities.
All in all, this vacation was going precisely as I had expected. I only wished I knew how to enjoy it before the surprises started piling up.
Finn, for his part, seemed to fit into his role as naturally as if we’d been dating for years. His hand was never far from mine on the dining table, more often than not, touching me in that soft, casual way of one who did it by instinct, seemingly unaware of the act. He threw those big glances at me that made me heat up despite releasing some of the frustration an hour earlier. And when he leaned in to plant a kiss on my cheek after Dad made a particularly stingy joke on the account of my dating history, the fire remained on my skin long after his lips were away.
“Sweet as a muffin,” Emily pointed out loudly, and everyone took it up. Muf-Finn quickly became a thing that existed in my head and I had to live with it for the rest of my days. And the more I looked at him, the more fitting the name appeared.
Whenever our gazes met, something odd and wild happened inside my chest. I had been so busy keeping Finn away from the wildest of my family’s outrageous antics that I had forgotten to notice him truly. The real Finn, the one sitting next to me and speaking loudly and bluntly and with the same openness the rest of the people around the table exhibited, was a very lovely man. He wasn’t just cute and sexy. He was wonderful.
Oh, Kim , I thought as I hid my uncertain smile in a wine glass. You really delivered on that promise to make me date again, no matter the means. You really screwed me with this one . But I couldn’t find it in me to regret it. Watching him be the dazzling guy that he was turned into a reward on its own. For better or worse, we were stuck, and he was the sweetest muffin I’d ever met.
I decided, then and there, that Finn’s dedication to the part he played deserved a reward. It was only a matter of finding the right way to deliver it.